


Defective

by distractionpie



Series: Reed900 week [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Android Gavin Reed, Canon-Typical Violence, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, FBI Agent RK900, Gen, M/M, Pre-Canon Era, technically this is pre-relationship at best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 01:29:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16378805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distractionpie/pseuds/distractionpie
Summary: When FBI Agent Niles “Nines” Stern was injured in the line of duty, his brother Connor acquired him an android to assist with his recovery. Unfortunately the reason GV200 was so cheap to rent was because he was a re-purposed refurbished model who most owners would have scrapped years ago. Niles had never wanted a working android, but being stuck with one that's glitching out all the time is a whole new level of annoying.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have written three fics for Reed900 week and um... fair warning, none of them actually involve Gavin and Nines being or getting together? They're just such a slow burn ship for me. I think maybe once I've written a proper slow burn fic for them it will be easier for me to jump in with established relationship or faster stuff, but for now there's just hints ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Niles did not require assistance.

He had made careful notes on all of the follow-up exercises he would need to do upon being discharged from the hospital, had a regular grocery delivery established, and was more than capable of taking a cab anywhere he needed to go.

And yet Connor continued to fret, his insistence that Niles ought to ‘take it easy’ and not to push himself combining with his usual unnecessary big-brother instincts, until he’d threatened to sit on Niles to prevent him from leaving the hospital unless he promised to devote his recovery period to rest rather than taking on desk work.

He had been stronger than Connor since they were twelve, but the broken bones had complicated things and Niles had grudgingly said yes. That didn't mean he was also going to concede to this though.

“An android? Connor, what were you thinking?”

“Relax,” Connor said. “I didn’t buy it, it’s just rented to help you in your recovery period.”

Niles frowned. Renting an android was far cheaper than buying one, provided you weren’t looking for long term use, but it wasn’t like people were just giving them away. He could probably stretch his budget to acquiring an android if he’d ever wanted one, but the DPD pays significantly less than the FBI and Connor shouldn’t be wasting his money like this.

“I don't need an android,” the words felt familiar in his mouth, said more and more often as the automatons had become commonplace. Friends, co-workers, advertisements, had tried to convince him of the appeal of having a robot run around tending to his needs but Niles just didn't see the point. What benefit did they bring except as a flying leap onto the slippery slope of idleness?

“If you won't let him in then I’ll have to keep him at mine and bring him over every day,” Connor said, which was absurd. His shoebox apartment was barely big enough for him, never mind an android, and coming across the city every day was a waste of time.

“Or you could get rid of it,” Niles pointed out. But, “Let me see what you got ripped off for then,” he said grudgingly. If he takes a look maybe it will help him think of more reasons why Connor should take the thing back and argue for a refund of whatever he’s paid already.

“It’s…” Connor had the grace to look slightly embarrassed, but when he spoke it because clear that his embarrassment was for all the wrong reasons. “It’s an old model, refurbished several times, it really isn’t expensive at all.”

“Let me see,” Niles demanded. Connor waved over his shoulder and a moment later the android stepped into view.

Niles inspected it.

He didn’t recognise its features, it’s certainly not a model that’s currently marketed, and there are several visible signs of damages that have received substandard repairs. It isn’t wearing a Cyberlife brand android uniform, instead it’s dressed almost like a human and Niles would worry that Connor had got it cheap because he’d gone to some shady seller but the jacket it wore was American Android Act-compliant, bearing the mandatory armband and triangles and if he squints he can make out the model number GV200 printed just below the triangle even though the small grey lettering was hard to read against the black background. That might just be the concussion though, so he wasn’t going to mention it to Connor.

“I don’t want it,” he dismissed. He wouldn’t have wanted it regardless of its appearance, but if he was going to get an android carer he’d want to invest in a quality one. He and Connor have worked hard to get where they are — they’d shouldn’t still be stuck with other people’s broken toys.

“Look, Nines,” Connor said, and despite the childhood nickname there's something set in his tone now, the firmness and determination that makes Niles’ sweet natured brother so effective as a cop. “Either the android takes care of you or I do. I have vacation time and the Captain would probably let me add on some unpaid leave if I tell him what happened. I--”

“No!” Dammit, the only thing worse than giving his independence up to an android would be having Connor fuss over him, especially if he threw away his hard-earned vacation time to do it.

“Him or me,” Connor decreed, and if he showed that steel a little more often then maybe he’d be a little higher up the DPD’s food chain by now, although Niles can’t deny that he treasures his brother’s softness. “You nearly died.”

Not strictly true, but Niles can’t quite blame Connor for saying it. There was no denying that the arrest had gone bad, not when he’s got one arm in a sling and is using the other to hang onto a crutch because it’s going to be weeks before his right leg can take his full weight without blinding him with pain. And not when he can see faint traces of dark circles lingering under Connor’s eyes from the four days his brother spent at Niles’ bedside waiting to see if he’d wake up.

After what he’s put Connor through, maybe tolerating an android in his life is what Niles owes his brother. He can always order the thing to shut itself in a closet and go into standby until Connor lets his worry go.

“If it means so much to you then okay,” he conceded. “Come in, have some coffee or something,” he offered vaguely, anything to get Connor to stop standing on his doorstep and guilting him.

“I...” Connor wrinkled his nose. “I really have to get back to work. But Gavin can make you a coffee.”

Niles raised his eyebrows. “Gavin?”

Connor waved at the android. “It's a GV200 model,” he said. “The rental place has set it to respond to the name Gavin, although you can change that with a simple command if you don't like it.”

Niles doesn’t want anything to do with the thing, let alone giving it a new name.

“I’m fine,” he said, he'd only suggested the coffee for Connor’s sake, but Connor shakes his head.

“Gavin,” he addressed the android. “Go inside and makes Nines a coffee.”

The android stepped forward and Niles had to shift to one side in order to let the thing through because it seems like if he doesn’t it’s just going to push past him. It must really have been an old model because most of the androids he’d encountered were unobtrusive in a way that had obviously been deliberately engineered.

“Thank you,” Connor said, and it made Niles’ stomach lurch with guilt because he knew that were he anybody else he’d be the one thanking Connor, the android was an expensive gift even if it was an unwanted one.

But he was himself and he’d never seemed to be able to stop worrying his brother. “I’ll be fine Connor,” he said, wanted to say that he _was_ fine already but he knew that would only increase Connor’s stress. “You should go,” shouldn’t put any more of his life on hold with worry.

“I… yeah.” Connor swayed on the spot and for a moment Niles thought his brother was going to hug him, wrap his arms around him like he’d stopped years ago when Niles was a prickly teenager who’d complained at any infringement on his newly discovered personal space. “I’ll check in on you later,” he said, stepping back instead, “You can tell me how the android is doing.”

“I… get back to work, Connor,” Niles commanded.

He stayed on the step as he watched Connor get into his cab, then turned and walked back into the house.

Time to decide what to do about the android.

Gavin was standing in his kitchen.

“Do you not know how to work the coffee machine?” Niles asked. Surely androids were programmed with that or had some way of downloading the information?

“I scanned your medication; your current painkillers are not approved in combination with caffeine.”

“Connor gave you an order,” Niles pointed out. The whole point of androids was that they followed orders.

“I have also been directed to ensure your well-being,” the android said. “In the case of conflicting orders precedence is decided by priority.”

“And Connor specifically told you my health was of higher priority?” Niles asked, wondering what else Connor might have ordered the android to do.

“It’s hard coded as a priority in my programming,” Gavin said. “The first law.”

“And if I tell you to disregard that and make me a coffee?”

“Your brother is the one who rented me,” the android said, “That means his orders take precedence.”

Oh for… Niles didn’t even want a coffee when Connor suggested it but now he’d been thinking about it he knew he won’t find peace until he got one. He moved towards the machine, only to have Gavin step in front of him, blocking his passage.

“I just said you can’t have it,” the android pointed out.

Niles shook his head. “Asimov’s laws were modified before being applied to androids. Maybe you can't actively do things that would actively harm humans, but you aren't allowed to stop me.” He’d seen too much crime scene footage that had come from androids who stood idly by while all sorts of things far more fucked up than mixing coffee and painkillers went on, their programmers having decided that keeping them from interfering with human freedom to harm each other was more important than keeping humans from harm. “If I tell you to do something,” he could feel his voice slipping into the authoritative one he used on new recruits, utterly wasted on an android but the habit was unavoidable, “You do it. Now, you can make me a coffee or you can step aside to let me make it myself, but you can’t stop me.”

There was a pause, but then the android stepped aside, as it should.

Unfortunately, in the process, Gavin’s arm caught on the machine, sending it crashing to the ground with a smash the meant Niles knew even before he looked that it was broken beyond repair.

It couldn’t have been deliberate, androids weren’t capable of that; but if they were, Niles would say this one looked smug.


	2. Chapter 2

Connor’s orders taking precedence became a phrase Niles heard a lot over next few days. It seemed his brother had been very thorough in instructing Gavin to take care of him and had thought of every loophole Niles might use to keep the thing from doing its job. He’d briefly given serious consideration to just locking the damn android away somewhere, but he wasn’t sure how the thing would deal with being physically restrained from following its programme and he didn’t want to deal with it banging itself against the closet door trying to get out like a cheap automated vacuum that couldn’t find any way around an obstacle except repeatedly trying to go through it.

Though at least he couldn’t complain that it was making him lazy. He’d always loathed the way androids lulled people into complacency and lead to skill degeneration, but getting Gavin’s programming to process orders was a constantly evolving challenge, half logical puzzle, half word game, trying to phrase things in a way the android couldn’t misunderstand.

And it was useful, having assistance for the things he was physically restricted from doing, the annoyance he felt with himself every time he was incapable of performing simple tasks themselves balanced by the fact that the difficulty of getting Gavin to do anything right meant he was still working for it. Gavin must be a truly early model android because he was almost entirely literal — telling him to ‘Take the garbage out’ had resulted in Niles nearly doing himself a worse injury tripping over the pile of refuse bags that had been stacked immediately outside the front door and when he’d idly waved Gavin to ‘put that in the trash’ meaning the old newspaper on the table he’d looked up from his tablet five minutes later to find that Gavin had put everything on the table in the trash and was attempting to do the same to the table itself.

Mostly though, the problem was that Connor had ordered the android to keep Niles from working. And the android had clearly decided that meant that he couldn’t even catch up on paperwork without the android interfering by loudly talking about how prolonged screen-time was inadvisable when suffering from post-concussion symptoms and the stress it would place on Connor if Niles’ unwillingness to follow medical advice resulted in complications in his recovery.

Second hand guilt trips - why would anybody want an android?

Gavin was also a nuisance even when he wasn’t performing his usual functions. Apparently, something in his programming meant that if the house was clean and Niles wasn’t doing anything to endanger himself, Gavin would just make tasks up.

If Niles ever met the person who programmed Gavin to think books should be ordered by size and colour to make the shelves look pretty instead of by any content-based system of classification he would… well, an FBI agent shouldn’t abuse their powers but if there was ever a good excuse to make an exception, that would be it. He supposed that said a lot about the priorities of the sort of people who kept androids though.

“You need to relax.”

Niles wanted to say that he didn’t, that he hadn’t startled painfully at Gavin’s words because he’d been so focused on his thoughts, but the truth was the tension in his muscles was inflaming his already sore wounds and he’d already taken his maximum painkiller dose for the evening (half of what the doctors had prescribed him but he hated the way they made his brain feel slow and foggy) and could see no way of doing so. “It doesn’t happen on command,” he snapped instead, because he’d spent his whole life having people tell him similar things and not understanding that he just wasn’t a relaxing sort of person.

For a moment, he thought that he’d managed to convince the android to back off, that it had realised pushing him to relax only made him more tense, but then…

“Want a hand?”

“What?” Surely whoever had programmed the android had given it enough knowledge to be aware that humans couldn’t just flick a switch and intense. “What could you do?”

“Maybe you need a bit of manual assistance, y’know,” and then Gavin’s hand was in front of him, undeniably miming a hand job. “Since you’ve only got one that works.”

“I thought you were supposed to be a medical assistant android,” Niles said, because it was easier to focus on that than the fact the android just offered him a hand job or thinking about his injuries. “Or some sort of household model.” If Connor had inadvertently rented him a sex-bot Niles wasn’t going to be able to look his brother in the eye for weeks.

“Store bought androids are specialised, Cyberlife needs to maintain market separation to get sales,” Gavin explained, still perfectly casual. “But I’m an all-purpose rental, programmed what whatever freaky shit you’re into.”

Which, if whoever programmed it thought was an appealing prospect they were obviously a very different sort of person from Niles. The notion of who knew how many other people had used the android in creative ways was enough to make him want to fill the bathtub with disinfectant and push the thing in. He couldn’t help but wonder though, if the android was intended to offer sexual services, why it had been programmed to make its first suggestion something so mundane. Niles had started out as a beat cop and worked his way up and he still remembered dealing with strung out hookers making offers to get him to look the other way on them or their drug dealers and every time they’d started with oral because who wanted to pay for something they could do to themselves?

“I’m perfectly capable of satisfying myself,” he said firmly, before his mind could run away with itself. It had been a long time since he had done so, too long perhaps but that was more to do with his inability to let go of his focus for long enough than the fact he only had one good hand, but he definitely didn’t want whatever clinical manual stimulation the android was offering. Gavin jacking him off with the same disinterested mechanical motions he used to scrub dishes was about as appealing as scrubbing the dishes himself — less so, in truth, because at least if Niles washed the dishes he’d get the satisfaction of a job well done.

Gavin shrugged, an unnecessary gesture but Niles supposed those things were programmed to make him more human like, although personally he would have preferred it if Gavin didn’t exude such an aura of ‘your loss’.

That, for a while, had been the worst of it. Gavin continued to behave as if rearranging the house in accordance with the absurd systems of organisation he must have been programmed with was helpful, putting away things that Niles wanted to hand and making handy things he rarely wanted.

All in all, Gavin was categorical proof that Niles was right not to want an android around. The only way he could see it as making people’s lives easier was if people wanted to hand total control of their life over to a robot that used too much logic and too little common sense.

But he was recovering, the crutch was gone even if he hadn’t been cleared to return to field duties yet and he was up to 90% of his usual range of motion for his arm. The headaches lingered, but Niles had always been prone to those and it was far more comfortable to chalk it up to those general tendencies than to think about how long post-concussion syndrome could last.

All in all, things were looking up and he’d been in a good mood when he’d fallen asleep that night, woken up needing the bathroom but for the first time in weeks feeling no urge whatsoever to take another pain pill, but his good mood faltered when on his way to the bathroom he noticed a thin glow of light spilling out from under his office door.

Forgetting his bodily needs, Niles turned back into the bedroom and retrieved his gun from his nightstand, before proceeding cautiously down the hallway.

He listened at the door for several long moments but the only noise he could hear from inside was the quiet hum of a computer fan, the one he’d been meaning to get fixed for weeks but never had the time to replace. But that light had been off for days, Niles hadn’t been in the office and nobody else should have been able to get in there. And yet it was one, which mean an intruder.

He pushed the door open levelling his gun at—

— Gavin?

How could the android be in here? Why would the android be in here?

“Nines,” Gavin said, because he’d heard Connor using the nickname when Niles’ brother had first dropped the android off and insisted that if Connor called him that then Gavin had to follow the same standard.

“What are you doing?” Niles asked, surveying the state of the room. His computer was on and the android’s hand was on its access panel, clearly interfacing with the device. And Niles’ paper files, the ones he’d been working on when he’d been injured. “I told you not to touch any of my work stuff,” he said, it had been one of the first orders he’d given Gavin. One he’d been explicitly clear on despite the fact it shouldn’t have mattered because he always kept his office locked and he hadn’t given Gavin a key.

“Your brother—”

“No,” Niles cut in, slow and certain. “Connor doesn't want me to be thinking about work at all until I’m fully recovered. He wouldn't have given you orders to come in here or touch those files except maybe if you needed to stop me from working. You disobeyed.”

Disobeyed Niles and disobeyed Connor, but while they could give orders Gavin was ultimately controlled by his programming. Programming that Niles had never tried to find out more about.

There’d been more than one case of androids being used for surveillance and stalking, their original owner maintaining control while the new ‘owner’ let the android into every part of their life. And that was before even touching upon the Cyberlife conspiracy theories - Niles was entirely certain that the machines relayed more information back to their creators than they were strictly supposed to, that was hardly a conspiracy theory and more something people just turned a blind eye to, and there were plenty of wilder beliefs about corporate corruption and secret private armies that he couldn’t entirely dismiss.

Could he have been targeted? It seemed a stretch given that the android had come via Connor and the circumstances that persuaded him to allow Connor to force an android upon him had been sheer bad luck, but if the thing was snooping through confidential files then he couldn’t rule out any possibilities.

His thoughts were cut off by the sound of breaking glass. His first momentary thought was that Gavin had smashed something else, but Gavin was right here; the second was a bird hitting a window or perhaps a gust of wind, but the sound was too loud. Niles had been in law enforcement long enough to know what a forced entry sounded like.

“Stay here,” he commanded, and went to investigate.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you guys, this has already shot up to be one of my most kudos'd fics of the year, tysm!

Sweeping his house like it was an active crime scene was a weird feeling and Niles was glad he already had his gun from confront Gavin. He'd feel better still if he wasn't wearing pyjamas or if he had a way to call for back-up but it only now occurs to him that his phone is still in the pocket of his jacket, the jacket he left on the back seat of his car. Even if it was close, he's not sure he'd call it in, not yet, the noise didn't sound like a stray animal or a gust of wind but he can't be certain and he is so close to the end of his medical leave but if he calls out the cops and it turns out to be nothing but his imagination running wild due to the surge of paranoia that Gavin snooping in his office has triggered then that might seriously affect his attempts to get approved for a return to the field.

Of course, if he gets murdered by an ice-addict breaking in looking for things to steal and trade for a fix, that’s also going to inhibit his return to work.

His preferred minimalist aesthetic cuts two ways now. It’s good, that there are few places for the intruder to hide, but there’s also very little cover for Niles’ own approach.

He could hide out, avoid the risk of a confrontation because he hasn't been to the range since his accident and while he's normally a crack shot he doesn't know how his injuries might have impacted that.

But Niles worked and studied and has spent years clawing his way up to college, to the force, then to the F.B.I and his current rank, and, while his reasons are many and complex, in the privacy of his own mind he can admit that right at the core is the urge to not be scared and defenceless ever again.

Niles would not cower in his own home. Nobody would ever make him do that again.

One advantage of being barefoot was that it made his approach soundless, he had the advantage of the element of surprise as he rounded the corner into the kitchen and took sight of the intruder.

Took sight and --stupid, reckless or sloppy with sleep, or just rusty from weeks of enforced rest-- froze.

Niles knew that face, knew it from the files that Gavin was just going through, and why was one of Detroit’s most prominent red ice dealers and thirium smugglers breaking into his apartment? It’s not a thought he could dwell on for more than a moment though because the other significant fact about Johnny Boletto was that he was a damn good shot and utterly ruthless and it took a frantic dive behind the table that Gavin had dragged into the kitchen several days earlier because ‘that’s how civilised people do it’ to ensure that the shot Boletto immediately fired off ended up going into one of the cabinets instead of Niles’ head.

One deep breath, it wasn't enough to steady him but he'd seen too many bodies attributed to Boletto to think he could get away with dallying for more than that. Niles raised his gun, leaning around the edge of the table to get Boletto in his sights again, only to find that instead of staying put and lining up another shot, Boletto was rushing at him.

Niles tried to adjust his firing line but he was too slow, Boletto crashing into him like a freight truck and sending him sprawling to the ground, gun falling from his hand at the surge of pain in his not-quite-recovered shoulder.

A moment of blinding pain, but not panic and so he grabbed for Boletto’s own gun, trying to tear it out of his assailants hands, but Boletto tosses it aside and swings a meaty file into Niles’ face.

Why not just shoot him? Sure Boletto had a reputation for sadism but surely he wasn't so fixated on causing pain that he'd risk losing the fight over just getting rid of Niles?

But as a hand wrapped around his throat Niles realised that Boletto might have taken the investigation into him personally, might want to take the opportunity to make Niles’ death just as personal.

Niles was tall, fit even if he’s had to take a break from working out while recovering, but Boletto was a mountain of a man and Niles was pinned beneath him, mentally cycling through everything he’d ever learned in training trying to think of a technique that would allow him to restore some balance to the situation.

He swung a fist up at Boletto, but there was no way to get momentum up when pinned to the floor and Boletto had a face like a tenderised steak anyway, he barely grunted at the punch and his grip didn’t loosen at all. No, Boletto sneered and used that grip to lift Niles by the throat, slamming his head back against the tiles with a sickening crack.

Boletto was saying something, sneering, flecks of spit landing of Niles’ face, but he couldn’t make out the words over the rushing of blood in his skull. His vision was starting to blacken at the edges and his mind drifted to Connor, Connor who is his only visitor and the only person keeping any tabs on him while he’s on leave from work, who will visit at the weekend and find him, beaten and strangled and left on his kitchen floor for days, and the urge to spare Connor that gave Niles the strength to kick but it wasn’t enough.

He was going to die.

And then, suddenly, he could breathe.

Boletto’s weight was hauled off of him and for a moment Niles’ whole world was reduced to the dizzying rush of air into his lungs, short gasping breaths deepening as there was suddenly air circulating into his lungs again, drawing into his blood and soothing the pounding of his heart until there’s strength enough in his muscles to push, pull, push until he was shifted to a sitting position against the wall and could see his saviour.

Could see his _android_ going toe to toe with one of Detroit’s most infamous criminals.

And Gavin was holding his own.

Boletto was swinging at him, Niles took in the sight of Gavin’s head jerking back from a punch, but none of it was slowing Gavin down. Androids were stronger than they looked, faster too and felt no pain and, he realised as Gavin gets Boletto in an arm-lock any of Niles’ hand to hand instructors would have been proud of, possibly programmed to have all sorts of skills - programming combat skills into androids who weren’t specifically authorised for security functions was illegal, but Niles would be out of a job if being illegal stopped people from doing things.

Suddenly Boletto was the one powerless and maybe Niles should be taking control of the situation but instead he simply stared as Gavin switched to a choke grip with expert ease, arm tight around Boletto’s neck until the other man slumped, unconscious, in his grip.

Niles gaped.

Gavin stood there, his L.E.D flickering in yellow circles.

Boletto has got a few good hits in, the ring on his hand has torn right through the synthetic skin where Boletto had punched Gavin in the nose and the leaking blue blood suggests the hit was hard enough to damage Gavin’s chassis.

But Gavin had taken Boletto down in the end.

“You… you’re…” Niles’ head was ringing, hitting the floor having done nothing for his post-concussion symptoms, but all of that is secondary to Gavin, Gavin and his unconscious assailant. This isn’t a programmed response, androids aren’t allowed to harm humans, not even if defence of others, only government approved police androids could inhibit the actions of humans without their agreement, and even they wouldn't have been allowed to defy orders to go through his case files, or to show the independence of thought that would make them do that…

“He broke the back window,” Gavin said, sounding annoyed as he let Boletto fall to the ground. “I’m not cleaning it up.”

“He… you…”

“And your brother isn’t getting his deposit back on me,” Gavin continued, fingers tracing the thirium that leaked from his face.

Niles shook his head, trying to clear the daze. The deposit. The money that Connor had paid because Gavin was a thing, to be rented and used, and yet Niles knew a bit about programming and he was certain that Gavin wasn’t just running a subroutine right then, Gavin had _decided_ to unlawfully assault Niles’ assailant —if he were a human it might be different, but an android can’t hit a human, not for any reason, even the police androids he'd worked with only had the ability to safely restrain— and now he was stood in the middle of Niles’ living room leaking vital fluids, posture casual but a look deep in his eyes that was more human than nearly anyone that Niles has ever met.

Then Gavin’s eyes dropped and even with his head spinning Niles had got used to the look people get when they register his gun. Was Gavin going to shoot him? Niles had treated him like an object, if he was aware then perhaps he wanted revenge. No, that made no sense. Gavin wouldn’t have defended him in that case. He looked back up at Gavin’s face and maybe it was because Niles wasn’t at his best or maybe it was because emotions looked different on an android that it took him so long to realise but he knew that look, had seen it before though it’s usually on suspects, realised that Gavin was trying to gauge if Niles was going to go for the gun.

If Niles was going to shoot the android, the man, who just saved his life.

And for a moment he considered it. The situation was wrong. An android shouldn’t be able to do that. If he wasn’t being held back by his programming there was every chance that Gavin might become dangerous, to the man unconscious on Niles’ floor that was already true.

But if Gavin was able to make choices for himself… the implications were staggering.

“How much?” the words fell from his lips without his consent, but as soon as they’re out there he knows he can’t take them back.

“What?” Gavin’s LED is flickering fast —yellow, red, yellow— but the slight furrowing of his brow is a bigger tell. Androids can emote but they’re limited, most of them can emulate sympathy or affection and a few high end models have a greater range like excitement or lust, but he’s never seen confusion before.

“How much will the company want if an android they’ve leased isn’t returned?”

“My resale value is…” Gavin paused. “They’ll try and rip you off asking for four grand, which would be the cost for them to replace me with a new refurbished model. Only a dumb-ass wouldn’t negotiate on that price though.”

Four thousand dollars, negotiable. Less than the price of his car, for a being that was something like alive. Niles could afford that, comfortably even, not that it would mattered because it was hardly a choice. He couldn’t send Gavin back to be rented out to who knew what kind of people to perform tasks Niles didn’t want to think about out, not knowing that there was a chance that he was something far more than he was supposed to be. If Gavin would even go. He though back on all those times Gavin had gone against orders and Niles had assumed it was just because he’d not understood the input, but had he been in control of himself from the start? And if he had, why had he pretended otherwise?

No. Now wasn’t the time for philosophy. There was an unconscious criminal on his floor and Niles had to plan.

He’d need to report this, call in Boletto's apprehension and explain what happened. If Gavin was around then the bureau would probe his memory, would see what he’d done and Niles knew deep in his gut, an instinct that didn’t need to be backed up by his usual logic, that them knowing what Gavin had done would be catastrophic. Gavin would certainly be slated for experimentation and destruction, and if one android was capable of thinking then the possibility that they all were needed to be considered, and Niles wasn’t sure his higher-ups would be horrified by that thought for the same reasons he was. If androids were more than their function then for them to be used like they were was horrific to Niles, but androids were a vital part of the workforce and if they were acknowledged more than their function then the results could be horrific for the country. And Niles knew what his superiors priorities were.

But only Connor knew Gavin had ever been here.

“Is there anywhere you can go? Anywhere safe?” Niles asked, but even as he said the words he knew they were stupid. Gavin was an android, he belonged in a shop or in service like other androids, any deviation from the pattern would draw unwanted attention and risk. He’d have to improvise. Niles ground his teeth. An android with the ability to kill living in on the run — disturbing but still better than handing Gavin to the FBI. 

“Leave. Run,” he ordered, even knowing that Gavin didn’t have to obey anymore. “There are plenty of places in Detroit to lay low, squat in a run-down neighbourhood or try an abandoned factory or shipyard. But I need to call the cops and you can’t be here when they come.”

There was a long pause.

Then, for the first time, Gavin obeyed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In a funner world where I had more writing time this would be at least three times longer and slow-burn-y and a prequel to a fic in which while on the run Gavin finds Jericho and joins up with them, time passes and Niles is promoted in the FBI until he ends up on Perkin’s taskforce for android incidents (all the while keeping his mouth firmly shut about his first hand experience with what he now knows as deviancy), culminating with the canon revolution and Niles and Gavin meeting on opposite sides of the barricade...


End file.
